The Crown Jewels Boxed Set (A Crown Jewels Romantic Comedy Series)

by Melanie Summers

  Before I have a chance to even try to figure out what that means, he asks, “Do you want to have children? I mean, someday, when you’ve found the right fellow.”

  “I don’t know, really. I have seven nephews and nieces—soon to be eight. I love them to bits, most of the time. But the whole parenting thing seems awfully hard to do well. I have a feeling I’d mess it all up.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because you’re strong enough to come live among the enemy, smart enough to make a name for yourself, and kind enough to feel sad for someone who lost his mother a very long time ago.” The way he says it is so confident, that I almost think he might be right about me. He goes on, “So there you have it. Solid proof that you wouldn’t mess up a child. At least not too badly.”

  I chuckle, then say, “I don’t know about that, but I do know that the thought of loving someone as much as a parent loves a child terrifies me. They’re so fragile, and they need you for everything. Absolutely everything for so long.” I sigh under the weight of that question. “What about you? I know you’re supposed to have children, but do you want them?”

  “Very much. But I also know what type of life they’d have in store for them, and to be honest, I don’t know that I can do that to a child.” His gaze falls on the trees in the distance. “You’ve seen how busy I’ve been these past two weeks. It’s nothing compared to what will be expected of me as king. It could be a very long time before I take over, but even now, my life is not my own. In many respects, I’ll be set up to fail as a father.”

  “But surely you could do things differently. You’d have the power to say no to certain events so you could be with your children.”

  “Somewhat. But the thing is, in a way, the entire nation is mine to care for, and to protect in the way I would my own child.”

  “I’ve never thought of it that way. Is that how you see it?”

  “Yes, actually. As foolish as that may sound to you.” He glances down a me for a second, and our eyes meet.

  The connection between us is immediate. It’s like we’re peering into each other’s souls, but instead of wanting to run and hide, I want to see more. “It doesn’t sound foolish at all. It sounds…sweet.”

  “And bloody terrifying.” He turns again to the trees.

  “Because you’d be worried about messing up the whole thing on a much grander scale?”

  “Exactly.”

  “This is going to sound very odd coming from me, but I don’t think you would mess it up. I think you’d be very good at it.”

  “You’re right. That does sound odd.”

  “To no one more than me.” I smile a little, then explain myself. “I think you’d be a fine king—if we needed one.”

  He looks down at me, and I can see there’s an argument forming on the tip of his tongue, but he stops himself. “We’re just two people talking.”

  “Right. I almost forgot. I retract that last statement,” I say. “What I meant to say is that over the past two weeks, I can see how much you care about your people. I’ve noticed the way you make each person feel like they are the only person in the room when you are talking to them. And I don’t know if they gave you lessons on how to do that in Prince Charm School or what, but I do know that you make people feel special, and that is a gift that most people don’t have.”

  “Thank you, Tessa. That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Maybe not, but it means so much more because it’s coming from you.” His gaze pierces me, causing me to feel a little weak. “There’s something I need to know.”

  “Sure, what is it?”

  His voice is gentle. “Why do you hate us so much?”

  I freeze up. “Oh, God. This is going to sound so cold to you, because now that I know you, it sounds very cold to me.”

  “Knowing the reason would be infinitely better than having to guess.”

  I wince, take a deep breath and start to talk. “I don’t know if you know much about blogging, but it’s a surprisingly hard way to make a living. There are literally millions of people blogging every day about every single topic under the sun. Chances that you’ll be able to pay your bills are slim to none. So, when I was starting out, I was desperate to find ways to separate myself from the pack.” I sigh and feel my heart speed up. “I’m not sure if you can imagine what it’s like to be basically broke, but it’s really rather stressful. I came very close to having to sell everything and move back home with my parents…”

  I pause for a second, feeling stripped naked telling a prince what it’s like to be poor. “What I really wanted to do—and still do—is to find a way back to mainstream media. I thought if I wrote about national politics, it would help get me there. But I needed a fresh angle, something that would get noticed. I spent weeks researching, trying to find a gap in what was already being reported. Then one day, I realized that on a lot of sites, people commented on their dissatisfaction with the monarchy—and with our system of government—but I couldn’t find a place where all of those like-minded people could come together to share their opinions.”

  “So, you found a gap.”

  Nodding, I say, “I found it and filled it.”

  I stare at Arthur and am surprised to see that he doesn’t look upset, or hurt, or disgusted. He just looks...like he understands, which is hard to fathom considering what we’re discussing.

  I go on, wanting to get it all off my chest. “I do believe in having elected leaders, and I always will. But I found that the more outrageous my posts, the more traffic I would get on the site, from both sides of the argument. I know this is going to sound cliché, but it really wasn’t anything personal. I was just trying to make some money and make a name for myself.”

  “I see. So, you were just doing business.”

  I groan and cover my face with my hands for a second. “Somehow, I never thought that any of you would ever read any of it. I thought of it as a space for ‘the regular folk’ to come to complain and ask questions and challenge the system.”

  “But surely you must have at least considered the possibility that we’d read some of it? As you grew more popular?”

  “I had fleeting thoughts, but I always managed to justify it in my mind, telling myself that if any of you did read it, someone like you wouldn’t care what someone like me had to say anyhow.”

  Arthur nods. “You’re not alone in that, Tessa. I think a lot of people see us as incapable of having feelings. My sister said that maybe to you, we’re like two-dimensional bad guys from a Bond movie.”

  “As much as I hate to admit it, I suppose that’s true.” My stomach twists with guilt. “I don’t know if this will mean anything, but now that I know you, I can see that it was all very unfair. And I wouldn’t blame you if you just lost a great deal of respect for me.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because if I had some very noble reasons for becoming the Royal Watchdog, it would be one thing, but for it to simply be about money? That’s…”

  “Savvy.”

  “Savvy?”

  “Yes. You saw a business opportunity, and you took it. I don’t particularly like that you did it, but it’s somehow better to know it was just about the money than had it been something more personal.”

  I stare at him for a minute, shocked that he could be so forgiving about the whole thing. “You’re a lot more generous than I thought you’d be.”

  “Thank you. I’m more generous than I thought I’d be, too.” He grins.

  He glances down at my mouth, and I find myself desperately wanting him to kiss me. Oh, dear. This is getting complicated again. I need to put the brakes on whatever this moment is. I turn to face forward again. “Tell me about your mum.”

  He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks. “I don’t remember much, really. I can tell you what I know from watchin
g film footage of her by the hour, but my actual memories of her are those of a five-year-old. Fuzzy and incomplete.”

  “I can’t even imagine what you went through.”

  “Neither can I, really. It’s like it’s all some horrible dream, something that happened to someone else.” His focus is on her gravestone and it’s unbreakable.

  “I’m sure.” I wish I hadn’t asked because now I want to hold him tightly to me, and there’s no way I can do that. No matter how badly I want to.

  “She never should have married my father.” He starts talking, and I’m not sure he even knows I’m here. “She wasn’t cut out for this life, for life with him. There’s a necessary grit that she didn’t have. It killed her in the end.”

  The official report suggested that she died of a suddenly ruptured aneurysm. But I think that he may have just revealed a horrible, dark secret that he’s been holding onto since he was a young boy. I sit next to him in shock as the pieces start to fall into place. His overprotectiveness about Arabella and his grandmother. He’s so careful to make his sister’s life as easy as possible, so she won’t end up buried next to her mother.

  He suddenly snaps out of it and looks down at me, a bit of panic behind his eyes. “I apologize. I’m being dramatic.”

  “No, you weren’t.” My gaze hardens, but I can see he’s not going any farther down that road than he already has. “You’ve been through hell.”

  “Everybody goes through some type of hell, don’t they?” Arthur shrugs. “She was your age when she died, you know. So young.”

  “And beautiful. And much loved by the people.”

  “Yes, she was.” He smiles. “But no one really knew her. She could be very silly. She would sing to me, all kinds of songs. I was particularly fond of her version of the Munch Bunch theme song.”

  “I remember that show.” I smile, then start singing. “The munch bunch, have run away...”

  He grins, then does something completely unexpected. He sings, too. “The munch bunch, are here to stay...”

  I laugh, surprised at this side of him. “What’s the next line? I forget.”

  Arthur goes on singing. “The munch bunch, have found a home…”

  I pick it up from there. “With a garden…”

  We both laugh for a minute at ourselves. I blush at the silliness of it all.

  His face grows suddenly serious. “I don’t remember much about her, but I do know she would have liked you. Very much.”

  Tears spring to my eyes for the second time this morning. “That’s kind of you.”

  “It’s true.” He reaches up and wipes the tear from my cheek with his thumb. “You have this tough exterior, but inside, you’re a person who cares very deeply about others.”

  “How do you know? Maybe I’m granite through and through?”

  “Because you just sang with me. And now you’re crying.”

  “Well, bugger. I gave the game away.” I sniff a little and smile through my tears.

  “Since we’re just two people right now, and people are prone to doing stupid things, I’m going to do something very stupid.” He glances at my lips again.

  “What?”

  “I’m going to kiss you.”

  “That would be stupid.”

  “And yet, unless you say no, I’m going to do it anyway.”

  “I’m not saying no, so I must be as stupid as you.”

  “Thank God for that.” He lowers his mouth over mine and kisses me. A soft, achingly beautiful kiss that warms me from my lips to my toes and back. I’ve never been kissed like this before. It’s so gentle, so real, that I find myself melting into him.

  His hand slides over my cheek and he tilts my head, giving him better access as his tongue finds mine. Our mouths move with the perfection of a champion ice skating pair, gliding and soaring together. My hand reaches for his chest, and I instinctively cover his heart with my fingers. Now that I’ve seen what he’s been through, I’ve seen him in my mind’s eye as a lost little boy with no mother to love him, I want to protect him and save him from anything that could hurt him. Including myself.

  We stay like this for a long time, just kissing each other, nothing more. It’s not sexual, but it’s the most intimate, perfect moment of my life, and I can’t remember a time when I’ve felt so close to anyone. The world falls away, and we are no longer a prince and his harshest critic, but two flawed human beings needing to be understood. And for one brief and beautiful kiss, we give each other what we’ve both been missing for far too long.

  When it’s over, I pull back, stunned at what just happened. I look at him and he looks as shocked as I feel.

  “Well, that was…unexpected.”

  “Yes, it was.” My breath is gone.

  “We should be getting back.” He stands and holds his hand out to me. I take it and let him help me up.

  Our fingers intertwine as we walk in silence, and there is something so natural about the feeling of his hand touching mine—something so pure and familiar.

  When we step over the bridge, I stop and turn to him. “I’m so sorry about your mum.” I reach up and touch his cheek. “I promise I’ll never tell anyone.”

  “Thank you.” He leans down and presses his forehead to mine. I close my eyes and just feel him here. The weight he’s been carrying for so many years makes my heart want to burst with pain. He moves his face back, then kisses my forehead. “Thank you for being here with me.”

  “There’s no place I’d rather be,” I whisper because my voice has been sucked away with sorrow. His sorrow. I can’t hold back any longer. I wrap my arms around him and hold his body tightly to mine, and part of me hopes I can take his burden from him. Even just a bit. After a few more minutes of holding each other and more soft kisses, we break apart and start back toward the world again.

  “I don’t want to walk through those gates,”

  “Me either.” His face is filled with regret.

  “But we have to.”

  “So, we do.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Will There Be Strippers?

  Arthur

  The spell is broken the moment the gate closes behind us. Vincent’s voice cuts through the warm spring air, an unwelcome intrusion on what was possibly the best dream I’ve ever had (which is odd because there was no sex involved). “There you are, Prince Arthur. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

  “You found me,” I call back.

  “His Serene Highness is on his way home. His flight left an hour ago.” Vincent’s bearing down quickly on us, and I fear soon the fresh scent of spring buds will be overcome by pungent cheese.

  “What time will he arrive home?”

  “Five-thirty,” he says as he reaches us.

  Yup. There it is. Blue cheese. “Thank you.”

  “Sir, I think we should really have a plan for how to…” he glances at Tessa, “…manage the current situation.”

  I give him an easy smile. “No need. I’ve got it covered.”

  “Your Highness—”

  “It’s fine, really. I can handle it.” I shoot him a warning look, and he takes the hint. “Now, how are we set for this luncheon today?”

  “Everything’s ready. The guests will start arriving in thirty-five minutes. Princess Arabella has asked to take the lead on the speeches, and since this is her charity, I thought we’d let her.”

  “That’s fine. If she finds it too much, I can take over.”

  “The head of the program has asked if Dexter will attend, considering the topic.”

  “Oh, yes, he’ll love it.”

  I turn to Tessa. “He does better at these types of things than I do. He gets any number of offers from women who want to take him home.” She laughs and the sound delights my ears yet again. “You’ll come today, yes?”

  “I’d love to. I have a family obligation, so I’ll have to duck out by three o’clock, though.”

  This news
disappoints me slightly, and I’m surprised to find that I don’t want her to go, even for a few hours. “I’ll arrange for a car to take you.”

  “I’ll see to that, sir,” Vincent says. “I’d better make sure Dexter has had a bath.” He hurries off, taking the walkie-talkie off his hip and calling back to the palace to give instructions.

  We wait for him to be a good distance from us before either of us speaks. I sigh, then say exactly what I know she wants to hear. Funny thing is, I mean it. “It seems a shame that we have to go back to the way things were.”

  Tessa looks up at me, her eyes full of emotion. “It does.”

  “And yet we must.”

  “Agreed.” We walk for another moment, then Tessa approaches the subject I knew was coming. “Your father doesn’t want me here, does he?”

  “What makes you ask that?” I’m deliberately being coy while my mind races to come up with a suitable explanation. I can’t very well say, ‘My father’s a total dickhead. He’ll be absolutely awful to you, and since I like you very much, I can’t bear the thought of it.’ But I should probably warn her. It’s what any man who fancies a young woman would do. Wait—do I fancy her? I stop and turn to her. “He’s not the easiest man to deal with, and I’m afraid he wasn’t particularly thrilled when he learned of my plans as far as you’re concerned.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” She shrugs as though she doesn’t care, but at the same time, her face pales slightly. “It’s not like I’m his biggest fan, either.”

  I stare at her for a moment. The armor is back on, for which I am glad. She’ll need it. “Best case scenario is that he’ll be so busy with the upcoming anniversary celebrations that he won’t have time to take much notice of you.”

  “Ah. I see.” She starts back toward the palace, more slowly now than before.

  My stomach twists when I think about what I’ve just told her, and what we said and did a few minutes earlier. If there’s one thing I’ve managed to avoid all my life, it’s complicating things in any way, but Tessa Sharpe seems to be the exception. She could very well use everything I’ve just said against me and make it all public knowledge, which is why I really must double my efforts to win her over.